


Leslie Hurts

by jell_0_shot



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 02:26:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4373663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jell_0_shot/pseuds/jell_0_shot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leslie allows herself to fall apart the night that Ben and her break up</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leslie Hurts

As the key turned in the door, Leslie became overcome with relief. She’d managed to make it home without crying. 

The house was shrouded in darkness so she stood in the entrance way for a few minutes, allowing her mood to match the halls. The dimness soaked through her skin and curled around her bones.

Leslie sighed and flicked on the switch. In the brightness she saw the pain etched in her eyes and reminded herself not to cry just yet. She busied herself by changing into track pants and setting out an array of candies next to the couch. 

“Time to drown my emotions in television.” She told the empty spaces around her. 

As the familiar tune of Law and Order echoed out of her television set, Leslie tried to convince herself that she would be okay. She and Ben could stay friends, of course. Surely they could still have their lunches by the wallflower mural, they could still have intense debates about which Back to the Future movie was the best (the first, obviously), and they could still – 

Water began to collect in the corners of her eyes.

Stop, she told herself. She could feel something pulling at her heart, a physical tug. Losing Ben was making her break and she needed a distraction. She refocused on the show, pouring all of her energy into keeping her mind on the characters. 

It didn’t work. She managed to find a way to bring every line of dialogue back to Ben. As she searched the room for a better diversion, she noticed the contents of her bag were scattered across the floor from when she’d dropped it. She collected the assorted lip balms and post-it notes until her fingertips grazed the box. His box. Its red matched the rims around her eyes, itching to become waterfalls. 

She gave in; she was broken. Every breath tasted like Ben, but she couldn’t feel him anymore. Her cheeks were barcodes of stained tears. She was a mess on the floor.  
Her phoned buzzed and a message from Ann appeared, “I’m on my way over.”

She smiled against her tears, an oxymoron of sorts. When Ann arrived, she made no comment about the fact that Leslie was sprawled out on the ground, surrounded by red vines; she simply joined her. 

Leslie was the first to talk.

“This hurts, Ann.”


End file.
